HoUinger Corp. 
pH8.5 



LB 629 
.H58 
1866 
Copy 1 




IPESTJ^^LOZZI 



A. LECTXJUE 



BEFORK THE 



fljilahlpljian Societg of tje State lormallmkrsitg, 



JUNE, 1866, 



By EDWIN C. HEWET^t 



PUBLISHED BY REQUEST OF THE SOCIETY. 



PEORIA, ILL.: 

N. C. NASON, PRINTER, 31 MAIN STREET. 

1866. 






COKRESPONDENCE. 



Normal, June 26, 1866. 

Mr. E. C. Hewett: — 

After listening to your interesting Lecture of last Saturday even- 
ing, the Philadelphian Society appointed the undersigned a committee 
to solicit of you a copy of the same for publication. 

By granting the request, you will confer a favor not only upon the 
members of the Society we represent, but upon many others interest- 
ed in the cause of education in our State. 

Very truly yours, 

C. W. MOORE, 
G. S. ROBINSON", 
A. C. COTTON. 



Normal, June 30, 1866. 

Gentlemen: — 

The materials for my Lecture on Pestalozzi, — a copy of which you 
ask for publication, — were chief! 5^ drawn from Barnard's American 
Journal of Education, — a work to which the members of the Society 
have access. 

Nevertheless, I have collected from several volumes, and have put 
the whole in a somewhat briefer form than it is to be found in Bar- 
nard; if you think the paper will be of use to the Society, a copy is at 

your service. 

Yours very truly, 

E. C. HEWETT. 
To C. W. MOORE, ) 

G. S. ROBINSON, \ Committee. 
A. C. COTTON, I 



PESTA^LOZZI 



If modern systems of education are in any degree superior to 
those in vogue one hundred years ago, that fact is due to the influence 
and labors of no man more than Pestalozzi, the famous Swiss School- 
master, whose name is in every body's mouth, but about whom very 
little is generally known, even among teachers. 

The life and labors of this man shall be the theme ofi this paper. 
And I propose to present, first, a brief sketch of his life, and to fol- 
low it by some observations — first, on his personal characteristics; 
secondly, on his theories of education -, and thirdly, on his methods of 
putting those theories in practice. 

John Henry Pestalozzi was born in the city of Zurich, Switzerland, 
January 12, 1746. His mother was the daughter of a Protestant 
clergyman j and his father was a physician. They were both of Ger- 
man descent. When he was six years of age, his father died, leaving 
the family with but slender means of support. The boy was of a fee- 
ble constitution, and no measures were taken to educate him physi- 
cally, — he never took part in manly sports, nor mingled in society. 
To use his own words: "I saw the world only v^ithin the narrow 
limits of my mother's parlor, and within the equally narrow limits of my 
school-room; to real human life, I was almost as great a stranger as 
if 1 did not live in the world in which I dwelt." His mother — a 
most loving, earnest. Christian woman, — assisted only by an intelligent 
and most faithful servant-girl, brought up her little family as well as 
her narrow circumstances would allow. But the consequence was 
that Pestalozzi grew up most clumsy and awkward in body, — sensitive 
and nervous, with an imagination morbidly active, — but as deficient in 
foresight, calculation, and every requisite of a practical nature, as it 
was possible for him to be. 

His education, especially in the fundamental branches, was quite 
meagre. In his disposition, he was warm-hearted, benevolent, and 
patriotic, and much attached to his mother and home. Never was the 
proverb that "The child is father to the man" truer than in his case. 
He studied at first for the ministry, but afterward turned his atten- 



PESTALOZZI. 



tion to the law. He says he was influenced to this change " by a de- 
sire to find a career that would be likely to procure him, sooner or 
later, the opportunity and means of exercising an active influence on 
the civil condition of his native town, and even of his native land/^ 
He had, previous to this time, fallen in with the works of Rousseau^ 
and the writings of the speculative Frenchman, especially his Emile, 
seemed to him to contain the highest wisdom. Even now his young 
head was full of projects of a political and social character. In these 
projects he was joined by several youths of his acquaintance; and 
among the motives that influenced them was a fierce hatred of the 
aristocracy. This motive never lost its power with Pestalozzi. About 
this time one of his young friends died, and upon his death-bed ad- 
vised Pestalozzi to enter upon no course which, from his good-natured 
and confiding disposition, might become dangerous to him. " Seek,'^ 
said he, "for a calm and tranquil career; and, unless you have at your 
side a man who will faithfully assist you with a calm, dispassionate 
knowledge of men and things, by no means embark in any extensive 
undertaking whose failure would in any way be perilous to you." 

Soon after, Pestalozzi himself was dangerously sick. On his re- 
covery, partly by the advice of his physician, and partly influenced by 
the writings of Rousseau, he renounced the study of books, burnt his 
manuscripts, and soon joined himself to a visionary and impractical 
farmer in the Canton of Berne. This man was largely engaged in the 
cultivation of madder; and his plantations were exciting great atten- 
tion at the time. Moved by ideas awakened in his mind during this 
connection, Pestalozzi bought about one hundred acres of poor land 
near the junction of the Aar and Limmat, upon which he erected a 
rather fine house or villa, gave to the estate the name of " Neuhof,'' 
and, joining himself with a firm in Zurich, he prepared to commence 
the cultivation of madder on his new estate. 

At this time Pestalozzi was about twenty-one years old. He had 
formed an attachment for a young lady in Zurich, the sister of one 
of his young friends, and possessed of some property. A letter which 
he sent her about this time was, I will venture to say, unlike any other 
love-letter that ever was written, and I will read it to you : 

* "My dear, my only Friend: 

" Oar whole future life, our whole happiness, our duties towards our country and 
our posterity, and the security of virtue, call upon us to follow the only correct 



* Barnard's Am. Jour, of Ed. Vol. III., p. 406. 



PESTALOZZI. 



guide in our actions — Truth. I will, with all candor, make known to you the 
serious reflection 1 have had in these solemn days upon the relation subsisting 
between us; I am happy that I know before-hand, that my friend will find more 
true love in the calm truth of this contemplation, which so intimately concerns our 
happiness, than in the ardor of pleasant, but often not too wise, outpourings of a 
feeling heart, which I now with difficulty restrain. 

/' Dear friend, first of all I must tell you that in future I shall seldom dare to 
approacli you. I have already come too frequently and too imprudently to your 
brother's house ; I see that it becomes my duty to limit my visits to you : I have 
not the slightest ability to conceal my feelings. My vSole art in this respect con- 
sists in fleeing from those who observe them ; I should not be able to be in com- 
pany with you for even half an evening, without its being possible for a moder- 
ately acute observer to perceive that I was in a disturbed state of mind, "We 
know each other sufficiently, dear, to be able to rely upon mutual straightforward 
honesty and sincerity. I propose to you a correspondence in which we shall 
make our undisguised thoughts known to each other with all the freedom of oral 
conversation. Yes, I will open myself fully and freely to you ; I will even now 
with the greatest candor, let you look as deep into my heart as I am myself able 
to penetrate; I will show you my views in the light of my present and future 
condition, as clearly as I see them myself. 

*' Dearest Schulthess, those of my faults which appear to me the most important 
in relation to the situation in which I may be placed in after-life, are improvi- 
dence, incautiousness, and a want of presence of mind to meet unexpected 
changes in my future prospects, whenever they may occur. I know not how far 
they may be diminished by my efforts to counteract them, by calm judgment and 
experience. At present, I have them still in such a degree, that I dare not con- 
ceal them from the maiden whom I love ; they are faults, my dear, which deserve 
your fullest consideration. I have other faults, arising from my irritability and 
sensitiveness, which oftentimes will not submit to my judgment. I very fre- 
quently allow myself to run into excesses in praising and blaming, in my likings 
and dislikings ; I cleave so strongly to many things which I possess, that the 
force with which I feel myself bound to them often exceeds the limits which rea- 
son assigns; whenever my country or my friend is unhappy, I am myself unhap- 
py. Direct your whole attention to this weakness ; there will be times when the 
cheerfulness and tranquillity of my soul will suffer under it. If even it does not 
hinder me in the discharge of my duties, yet I shall scarcely ever be great enough 
to fulfill them, in such adverse circumstances, with the cheerfulness and tranquil- 
lity of a wise man, who is ever true to himself Of my great, and indeed very 
reprehensible negligence in all matters of etiquette, and generally in all matters 
which are not of themselves of importance, I need not speak ; any one may see 
them at first sight of me. I also owe you the open confession, my dear, that I 
shall always consider my duties toward my beloved partner subordinate to my 
duties toward my country; and that, although I shall be the tenderest husband, 
nevertheless I hold it to be my duty to be inexorable to the tears of my wife, if 
she should ever attempt to restrain me by them from the direct performance of 
my duties as a citizen, whatever this might lead to. My wife shall be the confi- 
dent of my heart, the partner of all my most secret counsels. A great and hon- 



6 PEST ALOZ ZI 



est simplicity shall reign in my house. And one thing more. My life will not 
pass without important and very critical undertakings. I shall Tiot forget the 
precepts of Menalk, and my first resolutions to devote myself wholly to my coun- 
try; I shall never from fear of man, refrain from speaking, when I see that the 
good of my country calls upon me to speak : my whole heart is my country's ; I 
will risk all to alleviate the need and misery of my fellow countrymen. What 
consequences may the undertakings to which I feel niyself urged on, draw after 
them ; how unequal to them am I; and how imperative is ray duty to show you 
the possibility of the great dangers which they may bring upon me! 

"My dear, my beloved friend, I have now spoken candidly of my character and 
my aspirations. Reflect upon every thing. If the traits which it was my duty to 
mention, diminish your respect for me, you will still esteem my sincerity, and you 
will not think less highly of me, that I did not take advantage of your want of 
acquaintance with my character, for the attainment of my inmost wishes. De- 
cide now whether you can give your heart to a man with these faults and in such 
a condition, and be happy. 

"My dear friend, I love you so truly from my heart, and with such fervor, that 
this step has cost me mu«h ; I fear to lose you, dear, when you see me as I am ; 
I had often determined to be silent; at last I hare conquered myself. My con- 
science called loudly to me, that I should be a seducer and not a lover, if I were 
to hide from my beloved a trait of my heart, or a circumstance, which might one 
day disgust her and render her unhappy ; I now rejoice at what I have done. If 
the circumstances into which duty and country shall call me, set a limit to my 
efforts and my hopes, still I shall not have been base-minded, not vicious; I have 
not sought to please you in a mask, — I have not deceived you with chimerical 
hopes of a happiness that is not to be looked for ; I have concealed from you no 
danger and no sorrow of the future ; I have nothing to reproach myself with." 

Two years later, he married the young lady and brought her to his 
house at Neuhof. The misfortunes which were sure, sooner or later, 
to fall upon such an undertaking in the hands of such a man, did not 
long delay. He had no sort of ability for business; his assistants 
were unfaithful; the Zurich firm examined his affairs and withdrew 
their capital. Nevertheless, he determined to go on with farming, and 
to join with it the instruction of poor children. In 1775 he opened 
his poor school at Neuhof, and soon had fifty or more pupils. His plan 
was to combine manual labor with instruction. The pupils were to 
work on the farm in summer, and in winter engage in manufactures, 
Pestalozzi instructing them as they worked. Here, as always, his good 
nature, zeal, and imagination, outran all exhibition of common sense. 
In answer to the demands of their parents, he paid the children far 
more than their labor was worth. He was constantly annoyed by the 
meddling visits of the parents, especially on Sundays, — oftentimes 
they removed their children as soon as they were decently clothed. 



PESTALOZZI 



In theory, he clearly perceived the importance of dwelling upon the 
elements until fully mastered, before passing to any thing higher. 
But in practice, his imagination and ambition led him constantly to 
violate his sound theory. The same fault appeared in his work. Be- 
fore the children were able to spin well the coarsest thread, he made 
them attempt the manufacture of the finest. As he says, himself, " I 
wanted to make muslin fabrics before my weavers had acquired suffi- 
cient steadiness and readiness in the weaving of common cotton goods.'' 
These mistakes, added to his ever-present incapacity for business, soon 
involved him in debt, absorbed nearly all his wife's property, and to- 
tally alienated the confidence of his friends. The school failed, and, 
in 1780, was closed. He was now in a wretched plight. "My 
friends," he says, "now only loved me without hope; in the whole 
circuit of the surrounding district, it was every where said that I was 
a lost man, that nothing could be done for me." His wife was sick, — 
her money was gone, — Pestalozzi had none 3 and, in his fine country- 
house, they often suffered from the actual want of food and fuel. 

He attempted no more educational projects for about eighteen 
years. He now began a rather brilliant career as an author. His 
first work, entitled, " The Evening Hours of a Hermit," contains a 
series of remarkable aphorisms on Education, Theology, etc., to which 
I shall refer hereafter. 

About a year later appeared his book entitled " Leonard and Ger- 
trude." Leonard and Gertrude are husband and wife, — he is a rath- 
er weak man, but she is a woman of remarkable powers ; and, by her 
house-keeping, the instruction of her family, and her philanthropic 
efforts for the benefit of a neighborhood of poor and degraded peas- 
ants, Pestalozzi meant to give his ideal of a true home, of proper fam- 
ily education, and of the benefits which educated people should confer 
on the community in which they live, especially upon the poor, ig- 
norant, and oppressed. It was for this class of people that the large- 
souled, but visionary, man ever thought and toiled. 

For seventeen years longer he remained at Neuhof, and wrote sev- 
eral other books, and a part of the time edited a periodical. But 
none of his works gave him as much reputation as his " Leonard and 
Gertrude." This was noticed by many eminent men, and bodies of 
men ;-^— and Pestalozzi received several invitations to remove from 
Neuhof and enter upon the work of education. All these he, how- 
ever, declined, and remained in his retirement, excepting a visit to 
Germany in 1792. during which he made the acquaintance of Goethe, 



PESTALOZZI. 



Herder, and other eminent German writers. During the period im- 
mediately preceding the French Revolution, he for a period joined the 
"Illuminati/' but soon left them. He had, earlier in life, been much 
influenced by the writings of Rousseau; but he had too much regard 
for genuine Christianity to follow blindly the lead of French Infidels. 

The Revolution, however, cast its influence over Switzerland, and 
the country was consolidated into an "inseparable republic," under 
five Directors, after the model of the French revolutionary govern- 
ment. Pestalozzi's writings had made him a man of considerable 
mark, — he was, moreover, a warm friend of one of the Directors, who 
held kindred notions with himself on the importance of educating the 
poor. His ideas he urged upon the government with much vehe- 
mence and pertinacity; until, at last, hoping by that means to make 
him quiet, he was ofi'ered an office under government, and was 
asked what office he would accept. To this proposal he made the 
memorable, noble, and characteristic reply : " I will be a school- 
master." 

An opportunity soon offered. In 1798, the French army burnt the 
town of Stanz, seven miles from Lucerne, and massacred many of its 
inhabitants. The entire canton was laid waste, and multitudes of 
children wandered about the country, homeless and destitute. His 
friend, Legrand, the Director, called on Pestalozzi to go to Stanz and 
take charge of the little wanderers. An old convent was given up to 
him, and here he gathered eighty poor children, from four to ten 
years old, most of them wanderers and outcasts, in a horrible condi- 
tion, " infected with itch and scurvy, and covered with vermin." 
Scarcely one in ten could say the alphabet. 

Pestalozzi was now more than fifty years old; but, with very slight 
assistance, he took charge of these children, taught them, trained 
them to work, trained them in the family, and was not only their 
master, but father, mother and servant at the same time. Sickness 
broke out among them, — the parents of such as had parents showed 
great ingratitude ; and Pestalozzi must have sunk under his labors, 
had not the French army returned and converted a part of his con- 
vent into a hospital. This broke up the school, in less than a year 
after it begun. Pestalozzi went to the mountains to recuperate, and 
the few children who remained were cared for by a clergyman who 
possessed a large measure of Pestalozzi's noble spirit. In this school 
Pestalozzi tried several experiments in education, — among the rest, 
on account of the want of assistants, the plan of setting the older 



PESTALOZZl. ^ 



pupils to teach,— a plan which Lancaster afterwards adopted, and 
which is the general practice in schools bearing his name. 

In 1799 Pestalozzi began to instruct in the primary schools of 
Burgdorf, in the Canton of Berne. After a few months, he was 
obliged to suspend his labors for a time, on account of a pulmonary 
difficulty. But in 1800, assisted by Krtisi, who had been a teach- 
er in Appenzell, and had migrated thence in company with twenty- 
eight children,— by Tbbler, who had been a private tutor in Basle,— 
and by Buss of Tubingen, he began an educational establishment at 
Burgdorf His assistants were remarkable men, and entered into his 
plans and carried them out with zeal and ability. Pestalozzi soon be- 
gan another educational book, with the queer title " How Gertrude 
Teaches her Children.'' This, with his ^'Evening Hour'' and 
"Leonard and Gertrude," written twenty years earlier, and a "Book 
for Mothers," of later date, comprises his principal educational 
works. 

In 1802 Napoleon required the Swiss people to send a deputation 
to him at Paris. Two districts chose Pestalozzi as their deputy. 
" He put a memorandum on the wants of Switzerland into the hands 
of the First Consul, who paid as little attention to it as he did to 
Pestalozzi's educational efforts, declaring that he could not mix him- 
self up with the teaching of the A B C." In 1803 the old cantons 
of Switzerland were restored; and the next year, the old castle in 
which Pestalozzi's school had been held being wanted for government 
purposes, Pestalozzi was obliged to remove the establishment. He 
went at first to Buchsee, near Hofwyl, in the same canton. After re- 
maining a few months, he accepted the invitation of the people of 
Yverdun, at the head of Lake Neuchatel, to remove to their town. 
Here the institution was fixed, in 1805, in an old castle, where it re- 
mained twenty years, or during its entire existence. Although in his 
sixtieth year, Pestalozzi now entered upon his labors with more zeal 
than ever. The teachers and pupils increased in numbers, and the 
institution began to have a wide reputation. Some of the most noted 
educational men in Europe were connected with it as pupils or teach- 
ers. Among them was Carl Bitter, the founder of the modern system 
of Geography. Princes and ambassadors visited the school, — pupils 
of all ranks came from far and near, — Pestalozzian schools began to 
be established in other places. Some people praised the school ex- 
travagantly, others criticised and sneered at it with equal feeling. 
Both had reason tfor this course, for good and evil were strangely 



10 PESTALOZZI. 



blended in the establishment. On the whole, however, it seems to 
me, the school was inferior to what it had been at Burgdorf. 

Among Pestalozzi^s teachers was one Schmid, who seems to have 
been about the only man in the institution who had any practical, ex- 
ecutive ability. But he was selfish, ambitious, and stern and over- 
bearing to his colleagues. The quarrel ran high between Schmid and 
his fellow-teachers in 1810, and they abused each other shamefully. 
During this year Schmid left the institution and wrote against it. 
But the institution suffered so much without his practical ability 
that, early in 1815,*Pestalozzi and Niederer, — the teacher who had 
led the opposition to Schmid, — induced him to return. 

Near the close of this year, Pestalozzi's noble and faithful wife, 
who had been his companion in sunshine and shadow for forty-five 
years, died. At her funeral, Pestalozzi took a Bible and, laying it on 
the breast of the corpse, exclaimed: "From this source you and 1 
drew strength and courage and peace.'' The old man was now nearly 
seventy years of age, but twelve of the stormiest years of his life yet 
remained to him. Immediately after his wife's death, the quarrel be- 
tween his teachers broke out afresh. Twelve left the institution in a 
body, — among them Krtisi, who had labored with him for fifty years. 
Two years later, Niederer followed; and a bitter law-suit between 
Schmid and Pestalozzi on one side and Niederer on the other ran 
through seven years. 

In 1817, the old man was so nearly crazed by his many troubles 
that he had to flee to the Juras for repose. While here he wrote 
poems, — the burden of one of which is : 

"Through all the dark and stormy days, 
The Lord hath been a rock to me ! 
My soul shall praise His holy name ! " 

The next year, Schmid published his master's educational works, 
which brought to the old man about $10,000. 

Pestalozzi still sighed for the 'poor children; and, in 1818, estab- 
lished another school for them near Yverdun. He received pupils for 
five years; and, at the end of that time, proposed to open a poor school 
on his old estate at Neuhof, with these pupils as teachers. He had a 
house erected for that purpose, but what was his chagrin to find that 
not one would go with him ! Education had aroused an ambition which 
was not to be satisfied with teaching in a poor-school. 

Pestalozzi had but one son, — he had died in early manhood, leav- 
ing a son. This grandson lived on the estate at Neuhof; and, in 



PESTALOZZI. 11 



1825, Pestalozzi, "an old man and full of years/' broke up the in- 
stitution at Yverdun, and went to pass his last days with his grand- 
son, on the spot where, fifty years before, he had begun his first labors 
as a schoolmaster. 

Here he died in 1827, at the age of eighty-one years. With mel- 
ancholy and sadness he reviewed his past life, for almost all his cher- 
ished plans had seemed to fail, and his last years had been poisoned 
with strife and bitterness. One of his pieces written in this retire- 
ment he called "The Song of the Dying Swan." 

In 1846, the one-hundredth anniversary of Pestalozzi's birth was 
celebrated by a large number of his pupils and friends ', and, could 
the old man have been present at the assembly, he would have learned 
that his life was by no means a failure. 

The personal characteristics of this remarkable man may be sketched 
in a few words. In person and countenance, he was awkward and 
ugly; and in his dress and appearance, any thing but neat and tidy. 
And yet the love and high enthusiasm which always reigned in his 
heart so lighted up and animated his face, as to make one forget his 
ugly and uncouth appearance. Love and pity, especially for the poor 
and neglected, were the mainspring of his long and self-sacrificing 
labors; and such a power did they give him as to make his influence 
magnetic over his associates, both teachers and pupils. At Burgdorf, 
Krusi and Buss were allowed $125 a year for their labors, by the gov- 
ernment. This sum they appropriated to the institution, receiving 
nothing in return but board and lodging. While at Stanz, he taught 
his poor-scholars philanthropy and morality both by precept and ex- 
ample. At the close of one of his lessons, he told the children of the 
sufferings of the people of Altorf, especially of the poor children. 
His flock requested that these poor children might come and share 
their privileges. He represented to them that such a course would 
reduce their now scanty rations, and abridge their other comforts ; but 
they had so caught the spirit of their master as to continue their re- 
quest. I have the story from Prof. Kriisi, now of Oswego, N. Y., — 
the son of Pestalozzi's faithful assistant. 

Enthusiasm,— the sine qua non of the true teacher, — was a marked 
element of Pestalozzi's character. It never failed him, even at eighty 
years. Oppressed by troubles and infirmities, we have seen him at- 
tempting to found another poor-school, at Neuhof His zeal often tri- 
umphed over bodily weakness. Another story from Krusi illustrates 
this. "On one occasion his school was visited by a foreign ambassa- 



12 1»ESTAL0ZZI 



dor, — Pestalozzi was confined to his house by neuralgia or rheumatism. 
Contrary to the advice of his friends, he left his room and hobbled to 
the school, leaning on the shoulder of a supporter. Upheld in this 
way, he began to ask questions. Soon his eye began to flash, — he re- 
linquished his support, — began to walk about the room, — and, ere he 
was aware, a cure was effected of which his physician never dreamed.'^ 
Another story, by one of his assistants, shows the same characteris- 
tics, and, at the same time, gives us a view of one of his weaknesses. 
By nature, he was frank and open, — his letter already read is a strik- 
ing proof, — but so strong was his belief in the value of his work, and 
so desirous was he of giving others a favorable opinion of it, hoping 
thereby to accomplish good in other quarters, that he resorted to a 
common trick of dishonest teachers, — that of showing off his best 
scholars before company ! 

* " As many hundred times in the course of the year," says Ramsauer, "as for- 
eigners visited the Pestalozzian Institution, so many hundred times did Pestalozzi 
allow himself, in his enthusiasm, to be deceived by them. On the arrival of every 
fresh visitor, he would go to the teachers in whom he placed most confidence and 
say to them : ' This is an important personage, who wants to become acquainted 
with all we are doing. Take your best pupils and their analysis-books, (copy- 
books in which the lessons were written out,) and show him what we can do and 
what we wish to do.' Hundreds and hundreds of times there came to the insti- 
tution, silly, curious, and often totally uneducated persons, who came because it 
was ' the fashion' ! On their account, we usually had to interrupt the class instruc- 
tion and hold a kind of examination. In 1814, the aged Prince Esterhazy came. 
Pestalozzi ran all over the house, calling oui : ' Ramsauer, Ramsauer, where are 
you ? Come directly with your best pupils to the Red House, (the hotel at which 
the prince had alighted.) He is a person of the highest importance and of infi- 
nite wealth ; he has thousands of bond-slaves in Hungary and Austria. He is cer- 
tain to build schools and set free his slaves, if he is made to take an interest in 
the matter.' I took about fifteen pupils to the hotel. Pestalozzi presented me to 
the Prince with these words : ' This is the teacher of these scholars, a young man 
who fifteen years ago migrated with other poor children from the Canton of Ap- 
penzell and came to me. But he received an elementary education, according to 
his individual aptitudes, without let or hindrance. Now he is himself a teacher. 
Thus you see there is as much ability in the poor as in the richest, frequently 
more; but in the former it is seldom developed, and even then, not methodically. 
It is for this reason that the improvement of the popular schools is so highly im- 
portant. But he will show you every thing that we do better than I could. I 
will, therefore, leave him with you for the present.' I now examined the pupils, 
taught, explained, and bawled, in my zeal, till I was quite hoarse, believing that 
the Prince was thoroughly convinced about every thing. At the end of an hour, 



* Barnard's Am. Jour, of Ed. Vol. IV, p. 92. 



PEST ALOZZI . 



13 



Pestalozzi returned. The Prince expressed his pleasure at what he had seen. He 
then took his leave, and Pestalozzi, standing on the steps of the hotel, said : ' He 
is quite convinced, and will certainly establish schools on his Hungarian estates.' 
When we had descended the stairs, Pestalozzi said : ' Whatever ails my arm ? It 
is so painful. Why, see, it is quite swollen, I can't bend it.' And in truth his 
wide sleeve was now too small for his arm. I looked at the key of the house-door 
of the maisou rouge and said to Pestalozzi : ' Look here, you struck yourself 
against this key when we were going to see the Prince an hour ago.' On closer 
observation it appeared that Pestalozzi had actually bent the key by hitting his 
elbow against it. In the first hour afterward he had not noticed the pain, for the 
excess of his zeal and his joy. So ardent and zealous was the good old man, al- 
ready numbering seventy years, when he thought he had an opportunity of doing 
good. I could adduce many such instances. It was nothing rare in summer for 
strangers to come to the castle four or five times in the same day, and for us to 
have to interrupt the instruction on their account two, three or four times." 

Like other men of intense enthusiasm and feeling, he was irascible 
and impatient. Although it was a fundamental principle of his theory 
to dwell on the elements till they were thoroughly mastered before 
proceeding to any thing higher, he was always desirous of immediate 
results; and never had patience to review thoroughly any lesson. Al- 
though he impressed it upon his teachers to abstain from personal vio- 
lence to the pupils, himself bestowed cuffs and blows somewhat freely. 

We have seen how the selfishness and oppression of the aristocracy 
aroused the ire of Pestalozzi. Against them he wrote with terrible 
violence; he was also exceedingly bitter against the systems of educa- 
tion and the instruction-books then in vogue. The first part of his 
book, " How Gertrude Teaches her Children," is violently polemic. 
His disposition, and his views of things, made him cynical in thought 
and speech nearly all his life And his want of an early, thorough 
education led him into many of the common errors of self-taught 
men,— among the rest, that of putting the responsibility for apparent 
evils in the wrong place. For instance, it is hardly conceivable that 
he charged the art of ^printing with the unfortunate condition of ed- 
ucation in his time. He also boasted that he had not read a book in 
thirty years. 

It was in some sense the misfortune of Pestalozzi to have a very 
clear ideal of what ought to be,— while he had little ability to re- 
alize that ideal This accounts for many of the glaring inconsisten- 
cies of his life,— this is the reason why his descriptions of his efforts 
and institutions are often very false. Probably unconsciously, he de- 
scribed them as he would have them, rather than as they were. But, 
3 • 



14 PESTALOZZT 



fortunately for him, his ideals live, while his attempts to realize them 
are little known and nearly forgotten. 

Lastly, — he seems to me an eminently Christian man. Here, as in 
other parts of his life, he is full of inconsistencies. He lived in a 
faithless age, — he was much influenced by the French infidel writers, — 
some of his own writings have little reference apparently to a Savior, — 
yet, unlike Rousseau, he made constant reference to an Almighty Pow- 
er, — he expressed his deep faith in the Bible, — many of his writings 
are eminently Christian, — and, chiefly, his love, philanthropy and 
self-sacrifice may truly be called Christ-like. 

The writer in the "New American '' very justly says : " It is diffi- 
cult for the reader, unfamiliar with the history of education, to under- 
stand how this man, whose whole life, considered in detail, seems to 
have been a succession of failures, should have exercised an influence 
so powerful, as he evidently has, upon the civilized world for the last 
fifty years; but the true explanation is, that in his educational theories 
he had brought to light great and abiding principles, and that his sys- 
tem was greatly better than his own exemplification of it." This is, 
without doubt, true; and it now becomes us to inquire what those 
living, fundamental principles are. I will first quote two or three of 
the aphorisms in the ^' Evening Hour," already mentioned : 

"The intellectual powers of children must not be urged on to remote distances 
before they have acquired strength by exercise in things near them." 

"Real knowledge must take precedence of word-teaching and mere talk." 
(What a pity he did not himself always remember this truth !) 

"All human wisdom is based upon the strength of a good heart, obedient to 
truth. Knowledge and ambition must be subordinated to inward peace and calm 
enjoyment." (Is not this Gospel? "If any man will do my will, he shall know 
of the doctrine.") 

" As the education for the closest relations precedes the education for more 
remote ones, so must education in the duties of members of families precede ed- 
ucation in the duties of citizens. But nearer than father or mother is God, ' the 
closest relation of mankind is their relation to Him'." 

From Pestalozzi's works, we may gather, I think, the following 
nine most important principles of a true education : 



I. It must be according to nature, — education can create nothing; 
it only develops. " It is not the educator that implants any faculty 
in man; it is not the educator that gives breath and life to any facul- 



PESTALOZZI. 15 

ty; he only takes care that no external influence shall fetter and dis- 
turb the natural course of the development of man's individual 
faculties." 

II. Education results chiefly from the efi'orts of the pupil, — it 
can not be done for him, — the teacher can only assist, encourage, and 
direct. It is said of his first poor-school at Neuhof : "His Institu- 
tion was to comprise the means for sufiicient instruction in field labor, 
in domestic work, and in associated industry. This was not, however, 
its ultimate purpose. That was, a training to manhood; and for it 
these other departments were only preparatory. First of all, he pro- 
posed to train his poor-children to exertion and self-control, by for- 
bearing and assiduous discipline, and by the ever-powerful stimulus 
of love. He aimed to possess himself of their hearts, and from that 
starting-point to bring them to the consciousness and attainment of 
every thing noble and great in humanity.'' 

III. Progress must be slow, but sure, — there must be no hurry, 
and no new thing must be attempted till the last is mastered, — thus 
every forward step is secure. 

IV. The progress must be harmonious, — of the memory, — the 
reason, — the perceptive faculties, — the eye, — the hand, — the whole 
physical frame, — and the conscience and afi'ections; no one is to be 
developed at the expense or neglect of the others. 

Y. The instruction must be adapted to the peculiarities of each 
pupil; for as the faculties and powers to be developed originally difi"er 
in individuals, no one system or method can be best for all. 

VI. Observation should be made the basis of all knowledge, — es- 
pecially of all definitions and other uses of language. Pestalozzi 
says : "Out of the observation of an object, the first thing that arises 
is the necessity of naming it; from naming it, we pass on to deter- 
mining its properties, that is, to description ; out of a clear descrip- 
tion is finally developed the definition, — the distinct idea of the ob- 
ject. Definitions not founded on observations produce a superficial 
and unprofitable kind of knowledge." 

VII. All observation should be followed by reflection, and a study 
of the material for thought thus acquired. 

VIII. All language should proceed from within, and should be an 
expression of thoughts already possessed, — in all cases, the idea or 
thouo-ht first, and the name or expression afterward. "The perfection 



16 PESTALOZZI. 



of observation should precede the acquaintance with the literal sign, 
and the opposite way leads directly to the world of fogs and shadows, — 
and he who is only concerned to know the word at the earliest possi- 
ble moment, and who deems his knowledge complete as soon as he 
knows it, lives precisely in that world of fog, and is only concerned 
for its extension." What intelligent teacher does not say ''Amen" 
to this? 

IX. All true education should begin with the mother, and God 
should be its principal object. The importance of the mother's teach- 
ing is Pestalozzi's great hobby. It is doubtless hardly possible to over- 
rate it; but he says very little about the father, and then speaks of 
him as so absorbed in his work as to have little to do with teaching 
his children. Like many other of his idiosyncracies, this is probably 
due to the circumstances of his own childhood. 

These principles are the Pestalozzian leaven that is still working in 
the educational lump; but how did he exemplify them? With all this 
clearness of vision, he had not the practical ability to teach well a vil- 
lage school ; and his practice was often directly in the face of his most 
valuable theories. The * same author who described the reception of 
the Hungarian Prince, describes Pestalozzi in his school at Burgdorf, 
at the time of the writer's pupilage: 

•{•"I got about as much regular schooling as the other scholars, namely, none at 
all; but his, (Pestalozzi's,) sacred zeal, his devoted love, which caused him to be 
entirely unmindful of himself, his serious and depressed state of mind, which 
struck even the children, made the deepest impression on me, and knit my child- 
like and grateful heart to his forever. 

" It is impossible to give a clear picture of this school as a whole ; all that I can 
do is to sketch a few partial views. 

" Pestalozzi's intention was that all the instruction given in this school should 
start from form, number, and language, and should have a constant reference to 
these elements. There was no regular plan in existence, neither was there a time- 
table, for which reason Pestalozzi did not tie himself down to any particular 
hours, but generally went on with the same subject for two or three hours togeth- 
er. There were about sixty of us, boys and girls, of ages varying from eight to 
fifteen years ; the school-hours were from eight to eleven in the morning, and 
from two to four in the afternoon. The instruction which we received was en- 
tirely limited to drawing, ciphering, and exercises in language. We neither read 
nor wrote, and accordingly we had neither reading nor writing books ; nor were 
we required to commit to memory any thing secular or sacred. 



* Ramsauer. 

\ Barnard's Am. Jour, of Education. Vol. IV, p. 84. 



PEST ALOZZI. 17 

" For the drawing, we had neither copies to draw from nor directions what to 
draw, but only crayons and boards; and we were told to draw 'what we liked' 
during the time that Pestalozzi was reading aloud sentences about natural histo- 
ry, (as exercises in language.) But we did not know what to draw, and so it hap- 
pened that some drew men and women, some houses, and others strings, knots, 
arabesques, or whatever else came into their heads. Pestalozzi never looked to 
s^e what we had drawn, or rather scribbled ; but the clothes of all the scholars, 
especially the sleeves and elbows, gave unmistakable evidence that they had been 
making due use of their crayons. 

" For the ciphering, we had between every two scholars a small table pasted on 
a mill-board, on which in quadrangular fields were marked dots, which we had to 
count, to add together, to subtract, to multiply, and divide by one another. It 
was out of these exercises that Kriisi and Buss constructed, first, the Unity Ta- 
ble, and afterward the Fraction Tables. But, as Pestalozzi only allowed the 
scholars to go over and to repeat the exercises in their turns, and never ques- 
tioned them nor set them tasks, these exercises, which were otherwise very good, 
remained without any great utility. He had not sufficient patience to allow things 
to be gone over again, or to put questions; and in his enormous zeal for the in- 
struction of the whole school, he seemed not to concern himself in the slightest 
degree for the individual scholar. 

" The best things we had with him were the exercises in language, at least those 
which he gave us on the paper-hangings of the school-room, and which were real 
exercises in observation. These hangings were very old and a good deal torn, 
and before these we had frequently to stand for two or three hours together, and 
say what we observed in respect to the form, number, position and color of the 
figures painted on them, and the holes torn in them, and to express what we ob- 
served in sentences generally increasing in length. On such occasions, he would 
say: 'Boys, what do you see?' (He never named the girls.) 
^''Answer — A hole, (or rent,) in the wainscot. 
^'■Pestalozzi — Very good. Now repeat after me : — 
I see a hole in the wainscot. 
I see a long hole in the wainscot. 
Through the hole I see the wall. 
Through the long narrow hole I see the wall. 
" Pestalozzi — Repeat after me : — 

I see figures on the paper-hangings. 
I see black figures on the paper-hangings. 
I see round black figures on the paper-hangings. 
I see a square yellow figure on the paper-hangings. 
Beside the square yellow figure, I see a round black figure. 
The square figure is joined to the round one by a thick black stroke. 
And so on. 
" Of less utility were those exercises in language which he took from natural 
history, and in which we had to repeat after him, and at the same time to draw, 
as I have already mentioned. He would say : — 

Amphibious animals. Crawling amphibious animals. 

Creeping amphibious animals. 
% 



18 PESTALOZZI. 



Monkeys. Long-tailed monkeys. 

Short-tailed monkeys. 
And so on. 

"We did not understand a word of this, for not a word was explained, and it was 
all spoken in such a sing-song tone, and so rapidly and indistinctly, that it would 
have been a wonder if any one had understood any thing of it, and had learnt 
any thing from it ; besides, Pestalozzi cried out so dreadfully loud and so con- 
tinuously, that he could not hear us repeat after him, the less so as he never wait- 
ed for us when he had read out a sentence, but went on without intermission and 
read off a whole page at once. What he thus read out was drawn up on a half- 
sheet of large-sized mill-board, and our repetition consisted for the most part in 
saying the last word or syllable of each phrase, thus 'monkeys — monkeys,' or 
'keys — keys.' There was never any questioning or recapitulation. 

"As Pestalozzi in his zeal did not tie himself to any particular time, we general- 
ly went on till eleven o'clock with whatever he commenced at eight, and by ten 
o'clock he was always tired and hoarse. We knew it was eleven o'clock by the 
noise of other school-children in the street, and then usually we all ran out with- 
out bidding good-bye. 

" Although Pestalozzi had at all times strictly prohibited his assistants from using 
any kind of corporal punishment, yet he by no means dispensed with it himself, 
but very often dealt out boxes on the ears right and left. But most of the scholars 
rendered his life very unhappy, so much so that I felt a real sympathy for him, 
and kept myself all the more quiet. This he soon observed, and many a time he 
took me for a walk at eleven o'clock, for in fine weather he went every day to the 
banks of the river Emmen, and for recreation and amusement looked for different 
kinds of stones. I had to take part in this occupation myself, although it ap- 
peared to me a strange one, seeing that millions of stones lay there, and I did 
not know which to search for. He himself was acquainted with only a few 
kinds, but nevertheless he dragged along home from this place every day with his 
pocket and his pocket-handkerchief full of stones, though after they were de- 
posited at home, they were never looked at again. He retained this fancy 
throughout his life. It was not an easy thing to find a single entire pocket-hand- 
kerchief in the whole of the Institution at Burgdorf, for all of them had been 
torn with carrying stones. 

"There is one thing which, though indeed unimportant, I must not forget to 
mention. The first time that I was taken in to Pestalozzi's school he cordially 
welcomed me and kissed me, then he quickly assigned me a place, and the 
whole morning did not speak another word to me, but kept on reading out sen- 
tences without halting for a moment. As I did not understand a bit of what 
was going on, when I heard the word 'monkey, monkey,' come every time at 
the end of a sentence, and as Pestalozzi, who was very ugly, ran about the room 
as though he was wild, without a coat and without a neck-cloth, his long shirt- 
sleeves hanging down over his arms and hands, which swung negligently about, I 
was seized with a real terror, and might soon have believed that he himself was 
a monkey. During the first few days too, I was all the more afraid of him, as he 
had, on my arrival, given me a kiss with his strong, prickly beard, the first kiss 
which I remembered having received in my life." 



PESTALOZZI. 19 



The glaring errors in Pestalozzi's practice seem to be these : 

T. His attempt to proceed to higher matters before the lower were 
mastered. 

II. His frequent and monstrous commission of that against which 
he so violently and justly declaimed, — the putting of words in the 
place of ideas. The extract just read illustrates it painfully. In this 
case, he made the mistake which teachers and authors often make, 

viz: after thinking a matter out clearly by long and hard effort, 

that is, after making the careful observation he insists on, — he puts 
the result of his thinking or observation in brief, technical laneuao-e, 
and seems to believe that when the pupil has learned his statement 
he must know as much about the subject as he who makes the s^te- 
ment. I conceive this to be one of our worst errors at the present 
time, and in our own schools. This is putting words for thoughts 
with a vengeance ! The fact is, that the worth of language is deter- 
mined by the condition and discipline of the hearer's mind. 

Pestalozzi required his pupils to learn long lists of names in Natu- 
ral History, seeming to think that the mere name would be a full key 
to all the ideas concerning the thing named. In Geography, the 
pupils recited after him lists of the names of places, with their situa- 
tion, with no map or other aid to help in giving them a place. Alas 
for his theories ! 

III. His attempt to render teaching merely mechanical was mon- 
strously absurd. Feeling the necessity of a correct teaching in the 
family and in the school, and seeing the difficulty of training mothers 
and teachers to be intelligent and independent, he conceived the no- 
tion that, by simplifying education and inventing certain processes 
and writing them in a book, mothers and teachers, however ignorant, 
might take pupils through the course laid down with results almost 
perfect. " My aim,'' he says, " was to simplify teaching so far that 
all the common people might easily be brought to teach their children, 
and almost to render the school superfluous for the first elements of 
instruction." His biographer says of his plan : " The mothers have 
only to keep strictly to these books in the instruction of their child- 
ren ; jf they do this, the mother of the most limited capacity will in- 
struct as well as the most talented ; compendiums and methods are to 
equalize their minds." Again: ''According to his views, a teacher 
had nothing to do, but to take his scholars through the compendium, 
with pedantic accuracy, according to the directions how to use it. 



20 PESTALOZZI. 




without adding thereto, or diminishing therefrom." Can any thing 
be more preposterous, — less Pestalozzian? A pleasant business it 
must be to teach in that way ! And yet, I think, this idea is not for- 
eign to some minds in these days. Some people, in my opinion, 
seem to imagine that it is the business of normal schools to furnish 
just such an educational machine to each pupil as Pestalozzi dreamed 
he had invented. 

Yet, notwithstanding all his mistakes and failures, we doubt not his 
biographer says the exact truth of Pestalozzi : "When those purely 
external appliances and artifices which he employed for mechanizing 
education shall have been so modified as to be no longer recognizable, 
or shall have been laid aside and forgotten, — then Pestalozzi's ' Leon- 
ard and Gertrude,' the 'Evening Hour of a Hermit,' and 'How 
Gertrude Teaches her Children,' will live on and exercise an influence, 
though even these works, like every thing else that is human, are not 
altogether free from spot or blemish. Profound thoughts, born of a 
holy love, under severe pains, they are thoughts of eternal life, and, 
like love, shall never cease." 

Another writer, comparing Pestalozzi with Rousseau, says : " Pesta- 
lozzi was inspired by a love of humanity, and by a desire to benefit 
the poor; not by a war upon the rich, but by educating them. And 
* * * God blessed the purity of his aspirations, and granted him 
more than he asked ; — the joyful expectation of a great future, and 
to plant, by his writings and his wisdom, the seeds of never-ending 
development." 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




014 211 138 A I 



